


Redux II

by scullywolf



Series: TXF: Scenes in Between [99]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Cancer Arc, F/M, Gen, Introspection, MSR, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:00:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullywolf/pseuds/scullywolf





	Redux II

_“When you reconsider, the offer still stands!”_

Clenching his jaw, Mulder shoves his hands into his pockets and walks back in the direction of the Hoover Building. That cigarette smoking bastard can rot in hell for all he cares. He is a murdering, lying son of a bitch, and the only thing keeping Mulder from killing him here and now is the fact that Scully is still breathing.

The chip, whatever that was that he found in the Pentagon storage room, they still have no idea how or even if it will work. Mulder assumes it is the so-called cure for which Skinner made his ill-fated deal with the devil, the same deal this very man has failed to honor, but just in case… just in case there is something more that can be done for her, he will keep his options open and let the man live. For now.

He passes one of their usual lunch spots, and the sudden tightness in his chest makes him look away. 

Four years ago, if he’d been promised the truth on a silver platter, he probably wouldn’t have thought twice about quitting the FBI and selling his soul to whoever the smoking man works for. He would have bought -- hook, line and sinker -- that the woman he met last night was without a doubt his sister Samantha, and he would have gone to any length imaginable out of sheer gratitude at being able to see her again, to have her returned to him.

But he wasn’t made that offer four years ago, and in the intervening time, he’s already been fooled once by a woman claiming to be his sister. He has seen since then what is possible, and though he was admittedly drawn into her story the previous night, careful reflection upon her answers and reactions have reaffirmed his skepticism. 

Never mind that four years ago, he hadn’t met Scully yet. Everything is different now. The effect she’s had on his life, on his work, is not even something he can accurately quantify. There isn’t any way for him to go back to how it was before, even if his worst fears are realized and she is taken from him soon.

He shakes his head to clear it. That is exactly the sort of thing he can’t afford to think about right now.

Arriving back at FBI headquarters, he is reminded that there is still someone here working against them, someone directing that man Ostlehoff to surveil him. From the note Scully left in his desk drawer, it could be anyone in the executive suite, though he is reasonably confident that it’s not Skinner. Skinner, at least for the moment, has earned the benefit of Mulder’s doubt.

Everyone else, though… if it’s only one person, he will figure out who it is, and that will be that. If instead the entire organization is corrupt -- the thought strikes him low and fast, as he’s riding the elevator down to his office -- then what the hell is the difference? What good does it do him, working for the FBI, if they’re in bed with the bad guys anyway? 

As quickly as the notion arises, he does his best to dismiss it. It doesn’t make sense; surely there would have been signs, long before now, pointing to the institution’s dark core, if it existed. One person can hide, can obscure his true allegiances, but dozens? There is no way he wouldn’t have uncovered something before now.

Is there?

He gets to his office and shuts the door behind himself. Sitting at his desk, he reaches to turn his computer on, only to see the power button already illuminated. He is absolutely certain that he shut it off before leaving the office earlier. _Someone has been in here._ He turns the monitor on, can’t tell for a while whether anything is missing or what was accessed. 

Hours later, he finds it: a text file hidden down a rabbit hole of random directories, a file containing, he is appalled to discover, a blow-by-blow explanation of precisely how and when he murdered Scott Ostlehoff. A confession.

Doesn’t matter that it’s completely incorrect. (He only shot the man after being threatened with a sawed-off shotgun; the file spells out premeditation, in no uncertain terms.) Doesn’t matter that it makes absolutely no sense for him to have such a thing on his _work_ computer, of all places. It’s here, and if the hearing tomorrow ends with him being charged with the murder, his computer will be seized as evidence, and this file will be found.

Someone planted it here. Someone with both access and knowledge, who wants to see him hang.

His breath leaves him in a whoosh. Whoever put the file here has gone to a fair amount of trouble to keep it from being found until just the right time. And even if Mulder erases it now, it would still be recoverable by the folks in the computer forensics department. At this point he is, effectively, a fish in a barrel. He has nowhere to run; he will go down for this.

_Quit the FBI. Come work for me. I can make your problems go away._

The words spring unbidden to his mind, and though he rebels against it, though he knows he has been led here quite deliberately, he cannot help but wonder. Is there truly no other way out? Is it worth spending the rest of his life in prison for the sake of his moral high ground? He _did_ , after all, kill the man he is accused of killing, though it was rather more an act of self defense than will be portrayed if he’s prosecuted for it.

To make all of that go away, to be able to continue his work, except for once in his life, he’ll actually hold all the cards… would it really be so bad?

The decision is too big. It’s too big to make on his own, far too big to make without consulting someone he trusts absolutely. Out of habit, out of stupid, reflexive habit, he turns toward the back corner of the office. 

“Hey Scully--”

But of course the office is empty. Scully isn’t here. She isn’t here because she is lying in a hospital bed, sick with a disease given to her by the very men Mulder is now contemplating working for. How could he do that? How could he possibly even consider such a thing? And yet… 

He doesn’t even notice when it gets dark outside, doesn’t realize until after the fact that he has spent the entire afternoon and well into the evening agonizing over this decision. He’s skipped dinner, his hearing is in less than 24 hours, and he is no closer to an answer than he was when he started. He needs help, he needs… 

Scully. He’s lost and it’s late but he _needs_ her, can’t do this without her, can neither betray her nor fall on his sword and let her death be in vain. He looks at the clock; visiting hours have long since ended, but he’s gotten around them before with a badge and a glare, and he can do it again.

He shuts down his computer -- for all the good _that_ will do him -- grabs his suit jacket, and heads out of the office.


End file.
